I've been pushing myself in weird directions recently, and yesterday I made the decision to take my small step forward a little bit further.
I've agreed to live in a flat in Bungay with two good mates, Luke and Jack, and I'm really excited about it. But questions about my current employment keep bobbing around my nervous head: what if Mum and Dad pull out of the golf club? What if I don't make enough money one month, or if Mum doesn't pay me on time, and I can't make rent? What if they're so angry that I'm moving out that they don't want to employ me anymore? Millions of things buzzing around, unanswerable, vague and usually the lack of answer is more worrying than anything else.
So last night, whilst enduring a ridiculously hectic and unorganised shift at the Golf Club, I decided that I wanted out. I don't know if the conversation I had had with my sister the night before was the reason, or just a spark in the giant fire, but either way, I knew that I needed to secure my future for myself and stop being pushed over and taken for granted. I asked Katie, boss at the Rumsey, to employ me full-time. And bless her soul, she wrote up a rota for me there and then.
So my 'baby step' of moving out is now actually moving out of the house and having another job which is more important and trumps almost everything Mum can offer. The only real loss is that I won't be able to do Cambridge any more, but maybe that's a good thing - cut off all the ties, even the ones that I might have held on to.
So this is literally the new chapter, the next step, the future version of Laura messing up all this stuff. For the better? I hope so, but cannot know for sure. Either way, I'm going to go into this head first, chin up, look it in the eye and smile at it. My first world problems need to end. Right now, I can't wait for the next few days to happen.
I wonder how quickly I can pack up 14 months of my life and get out?